


By Any Other Name

by thefrogg



Series: Rose!Verse [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefrogg/pseuds/thefrogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronon wants to go back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on my livejournal.

"I want to go back."

Lorne glances sideways, away from the ocean; Ronon's blunt statement had been spoken too fast. "To Sateda?" It was the only place that made sense.

"Some of my people survived, but--" and Ronon stops.

'Your culture is dying,' Lorne doesn't say, but Ronon can read it in the silence between them. "I'll suggest a trip to Sheppard, if you like."

Ronon only grunts in answer, then takes a few swallows of water before turning, breaking into a smooth run much faster than Lorne can keep up with.

Beautiful as it is, the sunrise holds no answers and scant comfort, and Lorne returns to his own duties.

~~~

Colonel Sheppard agrees to the trip immediately; with all the effort the Lanteans have put into helping the Athosians, they have no excuse not to do the same for Ronon. Then he offers to make it a joint mission, Sheppard's and Lorne's teams both exploring the ruins of Sateda to recover Ronon's cultural history.

Major Lorne turns him down, then the offer of the entire mission, with Ronon joining his team. "I know he needs my support for this, John," Lorne says finally, "but the only way I can be there for him is to not go. I can't be a part of this." A week will pass, perhaps longer, before Ronon will return; they've set aside that much time to explore, and have longer if anything of significance is found. Lorne knows this, and knows that Ronon will return silent and guarded, uncomfortable beneath the sympathetic glances of his teammates and unable to show it except in hiding.

~~~

Eight days later, Ronon returns with crates of books, religious items and military uniforms. His eyes are dark shadows set in a blank mask, his demeanor subdued, and Lorne cannot help but wonder about what Ronon had seen there.

They had planned to take a Jumper far from the gate, looking for areas that had escaped off-world looters.

"Here," Ronon says as he hands Lorne a box of singed manuscripts, the first word he's spoken since returning to the city.

Lorne resigns himself to silent gruntwork, one of many of the military drafted to help transport the findings; he is painstakingly careful with what Ronon gives him, setting it down gently once they've reached the empty rooms Ronon had claimed for the purpose. In the weeks to come, these rooms will become a library and memorial to the people of Sateda.

He cannot help but wonder if one day Atlantis won't be more museum than city.

~~~

Only Ronon's appetite isn't diminished that evening, a mountain of almost-beef stroganoff succumbing to the 'eat when you have the opportunity' instinct still too deeply ingrained to be ignored. His teammates try in vain to draw him out, getting few grunts and no eye contact until Lorne appears at Ronon's elbow, softly asking permission to join him.

"Seat's free," Ronon mutters, moving his elbow out of the way.

Lorne tries to ignore the lessening tension as he sits down, pressing his leg against Ronon's under the table in silent support.

"We're going back." Ronon doesn't look up, barely pausing between bites.

Sheppard nods slowly. "All right. When do you--"

"Not the team, just me and Lorne. Tomorrow," Ronon clarifies, rolling his eyes up to meet Sheppard's gaze, then looking pointedly to McKay.

"Huh." 

And that's all Sheppard will have to say about that, Lorne knows.

~~~

Sleep comes disturbingly easy for Ronon, head pillowed on Lorne's chest, one arm flung across his stomach. Lorne shifts the hand buried in Ronon's dreads, staring up at the ceiling; despite the eight-day separation, the pain radiating from the big Satedan's body is more than enough to quell any hint of arousal.

This isn't what he'd expected; very little in Atlantis is. He hadn't expected to find the best CO he'd ever worked under, much less that Sheppard would become a close friend. Or that his team would be his family, much like what he'd seen of SG-1 back on Earth; they'd had a bond that was envied, and not just by Lorne.

Certainly not that Ronon, arguably the scariest, most bad-ass warrior in Atlantis, would come to him, clutching the tattered remnants of his cultural identity, and offer him what Sheppard could not accept.

Ronon clutches at Lorne, shifting restlessly in his sleep; Lorne feels his eyes sting, his heart swell with gratitude.

Ronon had offered him companionship out of honor and duty and had faint hope it would be accepted, but risked it anyways; even love had other names here.


End file.
